


Yuletide, Cochrane City

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip and Malcolm under the mistletoe, and what it leads to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Takes place in an AU where Season 4 never happened. Written for Roaring Miceâ€™s holiday ficathon prompt, although I modified it a bit: â€œTrip and Malcolm on vacation/holiday in a major Earth city, around Christmas, so the lights and decorations are up. The rest of the story is up to you, but me? I'm partial to Trip/Malcolm finally start dating fics.â€  


* * *

The official ceremony was over and the crowd had dispersed along the neatly arranged center of Cochrane City. Someone had decided Jonathan Archer was the perfect person to give the keynote address. Trip wouldâ€™ve preferred staying out in space instead of returning to the Sol system, but at least Starfleet was combining it with giving _Enterprise_ new shuttlepods. The new â€˜pods would have bathrooms, which really should have been included all along. 

Captain Archer had been whisked off by a crowd of VIPs, while Hoshi and Travis (who was not-so-secretly pleased that for once he got to go on an away mission while Tâ€™Pol stayed on _Enterprise_ ) had gone off on a guided tour of the new city. That left Trip and Malcolm among the stragglers still standing around. Looking up at the massive statue of Zephram Cochrane, Trip remarked, â€œAfter all this time, thereâ€™s finally intelligent life on Mars.â€ 

â€œIâ€™m reserving judgment on that. A newly habitable planet, a new city â€“ and what have they done? Covered it in garish decorations.â€ 

Obviously, Malcolm didnâ€™t care for the meter-tall candy canes hanging from the environmental regulation support towers. 

â€œItâ€™s festive. Less than two weeks till Christmas, so why not decorate?â€ He personally thought the candy canes were a nice touch. â€œDonâ€™t tell me you donâ€™t like Christmas decorations.â€ 

â€œI like Christmas decorations â€“ classic, tasteful ones.â€ 

â€œAre you one of those people who like all white lights?â€ 

â€œAs a matter of fact, I am.â€ Malcolmâ€™s disapproving gaze rested on a giant Santa, tied up on a nearby roof. â€œThere is such a thing as subtlety, you know.â€ 

â€œBut theyâ€™re so boring!â€ Trip believed that a Christmas tree should be a riot of color. Heâ€™d always loved decorating the tree, and when he was a kid generally succeeded in talking his parents into bringing home a bigger tree than theyâ€™d planned on. 

Malcolm gave him a look that said, â€˜I think youâ€™re out of your mind, but arguing with you about this is a lost cause.â€™ â€œI suppose you also like those ridiculous animatronic snowmen.â€ 

â€œYep. Not like we had real snowmen in Florida anyway.â€ 

Malcolm muttered something that sounded to Trip like, â€œWhatâ€™s wrong with a wreath?â€ 

Since he didnâ€™t want to debate Christmas decorations at the moment, Trip decided to change the subject. â€œAnyway, the Capâ€™n gave a pretty good speech.â€ 

â€œThat he did. Iâ€™m glad it wasnâ€™t my job.â€ 

So was Trip. Heâ€™d been over two drafts of the speech with a proverbial fine-toothed comb â€“ not his idea of a fun evening, but the kind of thing friends do for each other. Speeches werenâ€™t really his thing. Actually, they werenâ€™t his thing at all. 

This part of Mars was fairly cool, although not so cold there was snow. Even with the environmental regulation system, Mars was windy. Supposedly once environmental regulation was expanded, the winds would stop gusting quite so heavily. Trip wasnâ€™t altogether convinced. 

Fifteen meters away a shop window proclaimed, _Gourmet hot chocolate!_ â€œHow does hot chocolate sound?â€ he asked Malcolm. 

â€œFine by me.â€ As they began walking, Malcolm added, â€œMaybe they sell the mix and I can my gift for the exchange.â€ 

â€œYou mustâ€™ve gotten Hoshi.â€ Theyâ€™d revived the senior staff gift exchange this year â€“ nobody really had time for Christmas in the Expanse. That was a Christmas everyone would prefer to forget. 

â€œI can neither confirm nor deny the identity of my gift recipient.â€ 

â€œOf course not. Itâ€™s still Hoshi, our resident chocoholic.â€ Which reminded him, he had to find something for Phlox. 

Overhead, an enormous metal mistletoe hung from a streetlight just outside their destination. What happened next could only be explained by his body bypassing his brain entirely. Trip turned sideways and kissed Malcolm. 

His brain returned to the action, a bit late. What was he doing? He was reasonably sure he wasnâ€™t Malcolmâ€™s type. Certainly he was nothing like that guy from last shore leave â€“ Riz Nan or Rin Zan. Whatever his name was, Trip just knew the guy couldâ€™ve easily tossed him several metersâ€¦ one-handed. 

The next thing he noted was that, for a brief moment, Malcolm was actually kissing him back. Then the inevitable happened. Malcolm stepped back and gave him a penetrating look. 

â€œMalcolm, Iâ€¦â€ 

â€œI only have one question.â€ Well, that was something. Trip himself had more than one. _Did you kiss me back or did I just imagine it? And if you did, would you mind doing it again? For the foreseeable future?_

â€œWould you have done that with anyone under the mistletoe?â€ 

â€œNo.â€ One simple word that changed everything. â€œAnyone else I wouldâ€™ve just laughed. Of course, Travis wouldâ€™ve pretended to be all offended, even though you know the only person heâ€™s interested in kissinâ€™ is Ensign Wells-Kenmoreâ€¦â€ he snapped his mouth shut once he realized he was babbling. 

Malcolm Reed was the master of the poker face, and it was out in full force. He opened the door. â€œAfter you.â€ 

â€œGood afternoon!â€ said the perky cashier from behind the counter. â€œHow can I help you?â€ 

Between replaying how incredible it felt to have Malcolmâ€™s lips pressed against his and worrying about Malcolmâ€™s reaction, Trip didnâ€™t have much energy to devote to the menu. The richly chocolate-scented air reminded him of their original plan and saved him. â€œA hot chocolate, please.â€ 

â€œSmall, medium, or large?â€ 

â€œSmall,â€ he said, because it came first. 

Malcolm smoothly blocked his attempt to put money on the counter. â€œMake that two.â€ 

â€œThree credits, please.â€ She swooped up Malcolmâ€™s money and handed him the change. â€œHave a seat, and Joanne will bring those right out to you.â€ 

They sat next to the window, Malcolm playing with the cuff of his uniform. He never did that. Neither of them spoke for a long minute. Trip had more questions. _Are you mad at me? Was that the dumbest thing I couldâ€™ve done? Have I screwed up our friendship? Or are you nervous because you liked it too?_

Finally Malcolm looked up and said, â€œI fancy you.â€ 

Trip couldâ€™ve jumped for joy, but he restrained himself to breaking out in a giant grin. â€œCan I take you out to dinner?â€ 

â€œHere you are, two hot chocolates.â€ Joanne had bad timing, but they thanked her anyway. Neither of them made a move to drink, Trip waiting with a mixture of excitement and anxiety for Malcolmâ€™s answer. 

â€œIâ€™d like that.â€ 

â€œGreat!â€ he said, although he was smiling so much his feelings on the subject were certainly clear. 

Malcolm being Malcolm, he already had a worry. â€œThis could get complicated.â€ 

â€œItâ€™ll be worth it though. We can make it work.â€ 

Much to his relief, Malcolm nodded. â€œYes. It will, and we can.â€ He sipped his hot chocolate and added, â€œYou know, I may just have to revise my opinion of gaudy metal mistletoe.â€ 

*** 

Dinner had been fantastic, and Trip didnâ€™t want the evening to be over. â€œFeel like walkinâ€™ or takinâ€™ the subway?â€ 

â€œLetâ€™s walk. I could use the exercise after that cheesecake.â€ 

The streets werenâ€™t too crowded, but a few people gave Malcolm admiring looks as they walked along. He looked really good in his navy blue shirt, but of course that was only the beginning of the appeal he held. Trip was thrilled that the smart, successful, witty, sexy man beside him seemed to enjoy their date as much as he did. Suddenly, he really wanted to hold Malcolmâ€™s hand, so he tentatively reached out and took it. Malcolm gave his hand a little squeeze, and after he adjusted his fingers Trip thought their hands fit together very well. 

Off to the left there was a little park, complete with a pond. The terraforming team really had outdone themselves. â€œLook,â€ he said, pointing with his free hand. â€œA moonrise on Mars.â€ 

â€œQuite something, isnâ€™t it? Do you suppose that bright object could be Earth?â€ 

â€œMaybe.â€ They detoured into the park and made their way to a bench. It was still breezy, but they both had coats on and it was a beautiful evening. The moon was just coming up over the horizon, all big and orangey. 

Malcolm was a bit fidgety, squirming a bit on the bench. Concerned, Trip asked, â€œWhatâ€™s up?â€ He hoped Malcolm wasnâ€™t having second thoughts. That would be too much to bear. 

The answer was so quiet Trip could barely hear it. â€œWould you consider being exclusive?â€ 

His heart leapt. â€œI donâ€™t need to consider that, Malcolm. Itâ€™s not like Iâ€™ve just met you. Exclusive would be great.â€ 

Malcolmâ€™s smile was priceless. â€œExcellent.â€ He slung his arm around Tripâ€™s shoulder, and it felt absolutely right. 

â€œLook, Jeff, weâ€™re interrupting a romantic moment.â€ 

Trip turned in time to get a glimpse of a red-headed man who had to be Jeff. â€œShut up and get on with it,â€ grumbled Jeffâ€™s companion. Before Trip knew what was coming, something was over his nose and mouth. He started getting woozy. Just before he lost consciousness, his brain supplied, _Chloroform._

*** 

He woke up, facedown, with a headache the likes of which he hadnâ€™t experienced since the morning after his cousin Jamieâ€™s 21st birthday party. That was weird, since heâ€™d only had a glass and a half of wine at dinnerâ€¦ 

Dinner. Date. Park. Chloroform. It all came to him in a rush. He tried to say â€˜Malcolm,â€™ but could only choke out, â€œLcolm?â€ 

There was the sound of a few footsteps, and then, â€œAre you alright?â€ 

â€œThirsty.â€ At least he got a whole word out that time. 

â€œWe have water. Here.â€ Trip forced his eyes open â€“ thankful that wherever they were was dimly lit â€“ and took the pouch. For a minute he hesitated, wondering what could have been added to the water, but then drank anyway. Their captors obviously wanted them alive. 

â€œYou can finish that one,â€ Malcolm said while he sipped. â€œIâ€™ve already had half, and we have another.â€ 

â€œI donâ€™t suppose you know where we are?â€ 

â€œHavenâ€™t a clue, but the only way in or out of here is through the ceiling.â€ Sure enough, there was a door three meters overhead. That could explain the bruises starting to form on his knees. Trip wondered what the chances were that he could pick the lock without so much as a single tool. 

â€œHow long have you been up?â€ 

â€œTen minutes.â€ 

â€œYou know, this really wasnâ€™t how I pictured our first date endin.â€™â€ 

â€œMe neither. Headache?â€ 

â€œYeah.â€ 

Of course Malcolm had been checking their prison over, and he reported, â€œI donâ€™t think thereâ€™s surveillance here. Wherever â€˜hereâ€™ is.â€ 

Thinking back to the park, Trip said, â€œI think those guys were human.â€ 

â€œIt seems likely,â€ agreed Malcolm. â€œHowever, they could merely be the hired muscle.â€ 

Over in one corner there was a toilet and sink, which could potentially have something useful for lock-picking. If they were really, really lucky, that was. 

â€œMalcolm?â€ 

â€œYes?â€ 

â€œDonâ€™t take this the wrong way, but can I climb up you?â€ 

Malcolm flashed him a sly smile. â€œPity, that could be great fun to take the wrong way. Another time, perhaps?â€ 

â€œOh, absolutely.â€ His headache had started to recede, at least, so he clambered up Malcolm. â€œJust a little to the right. Great. You okay?â€ 

â€œFine.â€ 

â€œLooks like a standard EM lock. No, wait, itâ€™s been modified.â€ And not modified with a lot of skill, either. His mood improved a bit with that. There was a chance they could get out after all. â€œDo you have a knife, by any chance?â€ 

â€œI had a pocketknife, but itâ€™s gone.â€ 

â€œHmm.â€ He moved some of the wires around, trying to come up with another way to pick the lock, or short it out. Then a series of thumps overhead came as warning. â€œTheyâ€™re coming.â€ 

Malcolm knelt down, allowing Trip to shimmy off his back just in time. There was a series of beeps, and then the door overhead slid back. In case they had any ideas, two guns were pointed at them. It was Jeff and his friend again. 

â€œWho are you and why have you taken us?â€ demanded Malcolm. 

Jeff sneered. â€œWe are the people who are going to save humanity from idiots like you.â€ 

That was a bit worse than Trip had expected. â€œAnâ€™ why have you taken us?â€ 

â€œBecause there were too many people around Archer. Donâ€™t worry, weâ€™ll release you as soon as all your alien friends have left the system. Terra Prime doesnâ€™t harm humans. Not even stupid ones like you.â€ With that, Jeffâ€™s friend dropped down a couple more water pouches and a loaf of bread. 

Before he could ask anything else, the door slid shut again. â€œTerra Prime?â€ he asked Malcolm. 

â€œDamn.â€ 

â€œYou know somethinâ€™ about these thugs?â€ 

â€œMy sister mentioned the group in a letter. Theyâ€™re an isolationist group. I believe the phrase she used was â€˜paranoid extremist isolationist sociopaths.â€™ Apparently some people decided that if we stayed in our own solar system, the Xindi attack never would have happened. Therefore, according to this logic, if we bury our heads in the sand and refuse all contact with alien species, nothing bad will ever happen again and humanity will live in utopia.â€ 

â€œAs if things are that black anâ€™ white.â€ The Expanse had pretty much convinced him that nothing was black and white, if circumstances were extreme enough. 

â€œIt gets worse. They believe Vulcans were in collusion with the Xindi and that if Andorians hadnâ€™t interfered we would have stopped the weapon sooner.â€ 

â€œThatâ€™s crazy!â€ 

Malcolm nodded. â€œItâ€™s also worse than hired muscle. This is personal for them.â€ 

He headed over to the sink. â€œMaybe there are removable parts on this thing.â€ 

*** 

It took him about two hours, but he finally had a decent tool â€“ crude, but effective enough for slicing wires - made from part of the sink. (He also had three ragged and bloodied fingernails, but that was a minor detail.) Malcolm had been less successful in his attempt to create a weapon, however. There was only so much that could be done with a few small parts from a sink. 

â€œReady?â€ he asked Malcolm. When he received a nod, he got on Malcolmâ€™s back again. â€œOkay, letâ€™s see.â€ Setting to work, he decided shorting the power would probably seal them in, so that was out. He needed to trick the lock into acting as though the code had been put in. 

Fifteen painstaking minutes later, the door slid open. Malcolm boosted him up. â€œWait, thereâ€™s somethinâ€™ here. A table, I think. Can you step back a little? I need leverage.â€ Obligingly, Malcolm stepped back and pushed Trip forward a bit more. â€œAgain.â€ Dang, it was a heavy table. â€œOne more time.â€ Finally, the table scraped clear and there was room for him to get out. At this point, Trip was halfway out of their prison, stomach down. With help from Malcolm, he made it the rest of the way up. 

Happily, nobody was in sight. â€œAll clear,â€ he reported. â€œJust some kind of warehouse. Now, howâ€™re we gonna get you up?â€ 

â€œI suppose a ladder would be too much to ask for.â€ 

â€œYeah.â€ At least he spotted a potential solution. â€œHow do you feel about climbinâ€™ a hose?â€ Dragging the hose in question back to the trap door, he was pleased to note that it seemed strong. 

â€œCan you tie a few knots in it?â€ 

â€œSure.â€ To start with, he tied it to one of the table legs. Then he made several large knots before tossing it down and sitting against the table, holding on. 

â€œReminds me of Starfleet physical training,â€ noted Malcolm. â€œOnly without the rope burn.â€ 

The table began to press against his back, and Trip wasnâ€™t sure how long he could keep it from moving. â€œMight wanna hurry,â€ he said, trying not to alarm Malcolm too much. Also, he was doing his best to ignore the pounding in his head. 

It wasnâ€™t long before Malcolmâ€™s head came into sight, but it felt like a long time. Still trying to keep the table in place, Trip stretched his arms and helped haul Malcolm the rest of the way out. 

Malcolm was instantly in surveillance mode â€“ taking in the lack of windows, the shadows that could conceal them or hide a captor, and checking for obvious cameras. Meanwhile, Trip headed over to the door. Naturally, it was locked. He fished in his pants pocket for the tool heâ€™d made and began poking around. The function that allowed release from the inside had been disabled, but it shouldnâ€™t be hard to reactivate. 

â€œOver here.â€ Trip turned to see Malcolm removing what was evidently a fake piece of concrete wall. â€œA safe,â€ declared Malcolm. â€œPerhaps our communicators are in here.â€ 

By now Trip felt like a colony of miniature Klingons were having a party in his head â€“ and he knew he wasnâ€™t well when he came up with that comparison â€“ but he started to work on the safe lock. 

Malcolm stepped away for a minute and returned armed with a crowbar. When he returned, Trip had optimistic news. â€œI should have this open in a couple minutes. These Terra Prime guys arenâ€™t the smartest bunch.â€ 

â€œLetâ€™s not underestimate them.â€ 

â€œRight.â€ They werenâ€™t out yet, after all. He went back to cracking the safe. 

With their combined talents, it took less than ten minutes to open the safe. The first thing Trip saw was Malcolmâ€™s pocketknife, which Malcolm was happy to be reunited with. Next came their wallets, and then communicators. 

â€œIâ€™ll contact the ship if you wanna check out what else theyâ€™ve stashed in here,â€ he suggested. If Malcolm could find useful intelligence or evidence against Terra Prime, so much the better. 

While Malcolm continued looking in the safe, he flipped his communicator open. â€œTucker to _Enterprise_.â€ 

â€œTrip!â€ Relief was obvious in the captainâ€™s voice. â€œAre you and Malcolm alright? Where are you?â€ 

â€œWeâ€™re okay, but have no idea where we are. Ever heard of Terra Prime?â€ 

â€œA couple of hours ago they contacted Starfleet and Earthgov demanding all aliens leave the system, and threatening to hold you and Malcolm until their demand was met.â€ 

â€œYeah, so I heard. Malcolmâ€™s just lookinâ€™ for anythinâ€™ useful in the safe, but when heâ€™s done weâ€™d like to get outta here.â€ 

â€œHess is on her way to the transporter room.â€ 

â€œGreat.â€ As soon as he was on _Enterprise_ again, he was getting a painkiller. â€œFindinâ€™ much, Malcolm?â€ 

â€œA couple of padds that will need decrypting, and -â€ Whatever else he was going to say, it was cut off by the sound of someone opening the door. 

â€œNow would be a good time for that transport, Capâ€™n.â€ Fortunately, he didnâ€™t have to wait long. The last thing he saw was the shocked look on Jeffâ€™s face as he and Malcolm dematerialized. 

â€œGood timing,â€ Malcolm told Hess. 

Archer came through the door, took one look at them, and announced firmly, â€œSickbay.â€ Trip figured Malcolmâ€™s headache mustâ€™ve been bad too, because neither of them protested. 

*** 

â€œHereâ€™s the culprit,â€ said Phlox from his microscope. â€œThe chloroform was laced with clodapidnaskazine.â€ 

Trip was pretty sure the doctor hadnâ€™t just said â€˜cloud-up-in-the-sky-azine,â€™ but didnâ€™t care what the name actually was. â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€ 

â€œItâ€™s the reason for your headaches. Clodapidnaskazine is a nasty little drug designed to incapacitate a person who attempts physical or mental exertion. The harder you work, the more pain you are in, until you are incapable of doing anything due to pain. Had the two of you continued exerting yourselves, you might well have lost consciousness.â€ 

â€œCan you get rid of it?â€ asked Archer. 

â€œNo need. Clodapidnaskazine breaks down within twenty to twenty-three hours of inhalation in humans. Now had it been injected, the situation would be much worse. Sleep is the best remedy, although I can give painkillers.â€ 

â€œPlease,â€ said Malcolm. 

â€œNo exertion, gentlemen. I expect to see you two after you wake up, which could be longer than you usually sleep. The clodapidnaskazine combined with adrenalin wearing off will no doubt make you quite tired.â€ 

The painkiller at least took the edge off his headache, for which Trip was very grateful. â€œSee you in the morninâ€™ then.â€ 

Phlox nodded. â€œGoodnight Commander, Lieutenant.â€ 

The captain followed them out to the corridor, tapping the padds Malcolm had taken from the safe. â€œIâ€™m going to give these to Hoshi. Let me know if you need anything.â€ 

â€œThanks, Capâ€™n, but all I want right now is my bed.â€ 

â€œI wonâ€™t keep you then. Good to have you back.â€ 

â€œItâ€™s good to be back, sir.â€ Malcolm had to be as tired as Trip was, and he certainly looked worse for wear, but he somehow managed to sound more alert. 

â€œYou know,â€ remarked Trip while waiting for the turbolift, â€œup till the part where we got kidnapped, I was havinâ€™ a really nice night.â€ 

â€œAs was I. Weâ€™ll have to try again without kidnappers.â€ 

Trip yawned before agreeing, â€œDefinitely.â€ He wondered if he could get some mistletoe for the Christmas party. 

Malcolmâ€™s quarters were right near the turbolift, and Trip could barely stand up. Leaning against the wall, he said, â€œI guess this is goodnight.â€ 

â€œYou look as though youâ€™ll fall over any moment.â€ 

â€œThatâ€™s pretty much how I feel.â€ 

â€œCome in, then.â€ Trip, not expecting that, gave Malcolm a surprised look. â€œNo use in you falling asleep in the corridor.â€ 

Too exhausted to argue, Trip followed Malcolm into his quarters. They pulled off their boots and practically fell onto the bed, still in uniform, facing each other. 

â€œThis wasnâ€™t how I envisioned inviting you to spend the night in my quarters,â€ admitted Malcolm. 

Trip liked that Malcolm had envisioned inviting him to spend the night. â€œSweet dreams, Malcolm.â€ 

â€œGoodnight, Trip.â€ 

He was looking forward to a very merry Christmas. 


End file.
